Lack of Luck
by Azraels.rose11
Summary: Draco is about as unlucky as they come, and now things are just getting worse and worse and worse. He is sick of it and is happy to complain in his own colorful way. The full discription is inside. au in the fact that voldemort never came back.
1. Bad Beginning

Right, so I was telling my friend that my life had turned into a badly cast epidsode of home and away and she was all "you should changes everyones names to Harry Potter characters and make it a bad fanfic" so I did.

All in all this is the story of my life (with some alterations in the wording of conversations the gender of the people in real life and in the story and a couple other things.) I hope that if you do in fact choose to read it you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the events that occur.

Warning: So much swearing

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Draco was fucking sick of this fucking bullshit. His entire Hogwarts experience had quickly turned into a particularly gossipy (read: crappy) edition of witches weekly, complete with lies, scandals and bad fashion. This was something that made him want to bang his head against one of the many stone walls until he felt just a little bit less desperate and a little more dizzy. In turn, this made walking places a near constant mental battle of temptation and resistance which in turn was a distraction to his everyday getting by.

It had all started at the beginning of the year when everything was about as fine and fucking dandy as it gets for a Malfoy. He and Potter had minimal contact due to the small fact that the… unique, Lavender Brown had her tongue down his throat 90% of the time. This made it difficult for their friendship to actually develop, but they always managed to talk through classes in order to catch up on general things. Harry's toxic relationship did have its perks however, successfully managing to bring him closer to Hermione and Ginny, the three of them happily verbally abusing Lavender both behind her back and to her face. In fact back then life had been pretty darn awesome. He could handle the work, his Father didn't bother him, his Mother was fine and then BANG! It all went to crap in the most unpredictable way possible.

And what exactly was this big unpredictable 'BANG!' might you ask? Well Harry broke up with Lavender fucking Brown.

You may believe that this is a good thing. Harry finally realising what a dim-witted slag she was and moving on with his famous little life. You may also be a stupid twat.

This was a disaster. A calamity second to nothing but the apocalypse. This was a catastrophe bad enough to make puppet shows and earthquakes - or maybe and earthquake during a puppet show, or a puppet show about an earthquake - seem like a stroll through the damn park.

This, all of it, is because stupid, stupid, idiotic Harry Potter decided that Draco was going to be the next object of his affection. That's right, Harry left Lavender Brown for Draco Malfoy, and his thoughts on the matter went along the lines of 'well fuck me backwards and hang me out to dry.'

All of a sudden everything was going wrong. He was being followed by Potter as though the later was a fucking lost puppy – but far more attractive, Draco could admit that – waiting for him after breakfast and before dinner, following him to classes and generally making the Malfoy heir want to throw up all over him – which was a tad inconvenient, especially after breakfast. He would do it too if he was ignorant enough to believe that it would result in Harry leaving him be, but no the chivalrous saviour would probably apologise for being in his vomit trajectory and race him off to the hospital wing.

It was impossible and it was stupid and it was only going to get oh so much worse.

"Guess what I was asked today." Hermione whispered as she slid into the seat next to him. They were in the far corner of the library, one of the few places Harry was yet to hunt him to.

"I think you should first ask yourself do I really care enough to waste precious daylight guessing about it?" Draco drawled out in a way that the other had become so used to by now.

"I was asked by Harry himself, if he should ask you out." Now that had his attention.

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him you were working through some stuff at the moment." She smiled proudly. "And that what you really needed for the time being was a friend that would support you, not try and screw you."

"Wow, that's perfect. Now all I need is some tampons and I am ready to live the rest of my life as a fucking drama queen."

"Hey I brought you time." She snapped at him without any true aggression, "What more do you want?"

"Oh I don't know." He pretended to think. "How about telling him I would rather stick boiling hot forks in my eyes than enter another relationship, and that if he doesn't leave me along I will hex his fucking balls off and it will be tragic and I will laugh at a hysterical level that really isn't helping the persona of a sane mind that I have going."

"That's your place to say not mine." Draco almost faceplamed, a very un-Malfoy like thing to do, but come on, surely she could take one for the team.

"It's only my place if I actually do it. Otherwise it's anyones job."

"Now, Now Draco." She smiled as she moved to leave. "You got to be fair with my friend."

And that was that. Hermione left and he was one step closer to approaching the nearest stone wall and beating himself to death against it. Why the actual fuck did everyone think he needed to be in a relationship? He was perfectly happy to be single. It wasn't like single automatically translated to alone.

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The next disaster was to strike hard and fast in the middle of potions, leaving a littering of cold and detached pain in its wake. This particular catastrophe was the news of his favourite grandfathers – his mother's less extreme (read: sadistic) side of the family of course - had been admitted to St Mungo's in need of immediate attention and he was unlikely to last any fair amount of time.

For those of you that have never received news like this I cannot put into words the exact feeling of the emotional low blow that it can deliver, however I am willing to have a go.

It is like standing on the edge of the deep end of an unheated and uncleaned pool, you are happy and fine living your life from there, knowing full well that disaster is only a step to the left but never actually planning to take that fatal step. Then some bastard comes along and shoves you hard, straight into the depths. For one sickening moment there is nothing underneath you and you can feel yourself tumbling towards the murky water, then there is the horrid moment where you hit the surface, suddenly consumed by cold, choking on the water that is keeping you down, keeping you under. You are running out of air but you can't seem to get over that shock of suddenly being consumed by cold and unable to see what is around you. Your entire life goes askew in that moment and it often feels as though you will never be able to fully recover.

However Draco was a Malfoy and Malfoys did many things but having a crisis in the middle of class was not one of them. So rather than go back he did the obvious thing and left the building. Nobody ever said anything about having a crisis somewhere else. Draco wondered down to the lake forcing his emotions into place but it was sort of like forcing a square into a circle shape; pointless and impossible. So Draco did the next best thing and shut down completely.

After this everything just seemed to get worse and worse.

That school work that had seemed so manageable was enough to give him a brain aneurism, or at least it would if he had given enough shits to bother trying to do it. In fact he didn't even care enough to try and attend his harder classes – cough transfiguration cough – and all those stupid classes that he just had to do – cough divination cough- so the Malfoy heir began to skip classes, not even having enough stability in him to care about being caught.

Even if he wanted to care about something he just couldn't. It was almost as though giving a crap about one thing would force him to give a crap about everything and he just wasn't ready to do that. The bigger picture was terrifying and heavy enough to bring the wall down if he looked at it.

In the real world that Draco was currently attempting to avoid with everything he had in him, Harry was beginning to worry and in his worry and as a consequence of this he began to double his efforts at being around an increasingly annoyed Draco. He was there in the morning, he was there in between classes and he was there in the evening. Hell, Draco was beginning to think it was a miracle and a half that Harry wasn't there when he went to bed 'just to make sure he was okay.' Of course he wasn't fucking okay but that was irrelevant.

Draco had to do something and he had to fix this, so he made a move.

He was sitting on a too soft couch in the Slytherin lounge watching as Theodore Nott glared at him from across the room in the same I-want-to-kill-you-in-your-sleep look that he had been giving Draco since Astoria had broken up with him, shattering his heart in the process, in order to date Draco who had in turn broken her heart. It was all very stupid and difficult and near imposable for anyone to really care about least of all Draco.

"Something on your mind Dray?" Zabini dropped unceremoniously onto the couch next to him, asking just the question Draco wanted to hear.

"Yes actually," he ignored the surprised look on the others face. "Do you think I should approach potter and tell him why I am never going to date him?"

"Never?"

"Not until hell freezes over and pigs fly."

"I think I could arrange that"

"Alright, not until I make it onto heavens waiting list."

"Arr, now that's a different story. We all know you're going straight to hell." Blaise pursed his lips, thinking carefully about his friends' newfound friend. He knew that Draco wouldn't willingly want sabotage his friendship with the golden boy and despite being annoyed by him ninety nine per cent of the time he most definitely respected Harry and wanted to keep him as an ally… er, friend. This is why Blaise went on to say 'I think that would probably be a good idea."

"Brilliant" Draco drawled out. Ha had admittedly been hoping that Zabini would shoot his idea down in flames and tell him to just let it run its course and if Potter made a move like Draco knew he soon would to simply tell him that he was friendzoned, and that would be the end of it. Luck however, was not a trait common in the Malfoy family, and that was going to be a pain in the arse for a little bit longer yet.

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Draco had approached Harry the very next day, pulling him aside and telling him the three very easy to understand reasons of why he was never ever going to date him.

The first was along the lines of "I have been having some trouble keeping up with life at the moment and it's really hard for me to admit this to anyone, but my grandfather has been ill, really, really ill as in he is dying Harry. I don't know how to deal with that, I really don't and now I am having so many issues with schoolwork and I don't know what to do." And on it went.

The second reason was much simpler in some ways and went along the lines of "to me relationships never end well, they are stupid and pointless and I refuse to drag someone I like and respect so much into such a hopeless activity."

Last but not least was the third reason that went along the lines of "I…" and Draco never actually got further than that due to the shaking and choking that had shaken his frame. So in-between trying to control himself and kicking himself for being so weak he vaguely recognized arms starching around him and he clung desperately to the fabric of Harrys shirt and for just a moment it seemed as though it would be okay.

He was soooo wrong.


	2. Things Get Worse

So yeah, life still sucks so imma keep on writing and lets just hope that one day there is a happy ending.

Discalaimer: i dont own it, simple

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If life had been frustrating before it was now a symphony of annoying voices and boring work. He could honestly not give fewer shits about anything. He was avoiding everything that represented any effort whatsoever as though it was the plague and when he couldn't just skip the class he just sat in a corner and tried oh so desperately to zone everything out and remain completely unnoticed. It worked most of the time.

He had been completely avoiding all of his friends as much as a human being can avoid other humans whilst entrapped in a boarding school. It was working too. As a matter of fact the only person that he actually wanted to talk to was Granger but that wasn't an option. Soon after he had received news of his Grandfather illness she had received news of her Grandmothers impending doom, it just wouldn't be fair for him to burden the girl any further. Besides her, Harry was the only other one he would have considered as an option to talk to.

Which brings us cleanly into point two: Harry mother fucking Potter was a smacktard. The stupid bastard was totally cold shouldering him. That utter dousche nozzle. One minute Draco is pouring out his heart and soul and a little bit more and the next minute it's like the saviour couldn't care less about him. What was with the four-eyed bugger and his complete inability to make up his goddamned mind? He was in love with Draco, he didn't want to talk to him, he was head over heels for Draco, he would rather hide in an alcove then see Draco. It was beyond imposable.

It didn't matter though. Draco wasn't there (mentally or physically) enough to let it bother him in any real way. That didn't stop it being stupid though.

It was a Thursday when good news finally reached him and it was about time too. You see his beloved grandfather had been released from hospital with the expectations of a full recovery.

It was like Draco had been holding his breath this whole time, his lungs slowly burning up and now he could breath, gulping in huge amounts of air as he saw the light for what seemed like the first time in forever. Things were going to be okay, it was going to be okay.

He slept the whole night through that night for the first time in an age, waking up fully in the morning and going to breakfast. He tried in all of his classes, miraculously managing to catch up on most of what he missed and making it back into his teacher's good books. He joined in at meals and spoke to people other than Blaise, Draco even went as far as smiling and hanging around with the golden trio and Ginny.

This happened all over again the next day and Draco just couldn't put into words how relieved he was. Things were going to be okay.

And I can tell you right now that karma is just as much of a bitch as people claim and my god Draco must have done something horribly wrong, like being a murderer or a puppeteer in his last life kind of wrong.

The next tragedy in his life snuck up quietly, striking him a 4 by 2 plank of wood to the side of his noggin and completely tearing everything apart. It was like he had spent so long trying to deal with the front on blow that he could see coming that he completely forgot to duck the blow from the side that hit him like a train, turning everything into slow motion and just breaking everything he had spent so long building up. He was shattered and shocked and so, so detached.

You see, Draco had been so focused on his Grandfather impending death that he had completely missed most other things going on, other things like his favourite uncles deteriorating condition. A condition that had led to his death.

And just like that everything fell apart all over again. He just couldn't do it. He couldn't.

The very next day – after all five hours of broken sleep – Dracos Grandfather was re admitted into hospital. They said something about him lying, he couldn't eat after all, and they couldn't fix him if he kept lying. So he tried to fill his day all of Saturday, wondering Hogsmead until his legs burned and he had to sneak back into Hogwarts, a bad decision in its self considering he tripped over his old tired feet and lay there until Filch's damn cat felt the need to waltz on past him meowing in a way that forced him to reconsider his morals on killing animals.

His 'friends' allowed him to drop back into oblivion, none of them actually caring enough to try and pick him up and brush him off, which consequently meant none of them cared enough to pursue him on his road to total seclusion and Draco was forced to come to the conclusion that maybe those dick nuggets just didn't give a fuck about him. Admittedly this was a pretty obvious conclusion but it still stung.

So he soldiered on because that's what Malfoys do. He continued doing what he had being doing before, the only difference being that now it was all more extreme. He slept so little that collapsing was a pleasant thought, he had a pocket full of parchment and a self-inking quill that he took to each class which hardly mattered anyway because he did so little schoolwork that he didn't even know what subjects he had when. And if he couldn't find out from someone else what class he had within five minutes he didn't bother trying to go. It was quite simple.

Until that point in time where is father had to go and ruin everything all over again. All it took were three words sarcastic, hate filled words and Draco snapped. He shattered into a million pieces like a vase thrown against the marble floor. And like a vase there were pieces everywhere and no amount of PVA would manage to put it back together and even if they did you would still see the cracks and there would still be little bits missing that had shattered into a dust too fine to repair.

So when his father had muttered his hate fuelled "well I'm sorry." To an already breaking Draco in a howler that he was opening up in the astronomy tower when the rest of Hogwarts had long ago fallen asleep, Draco had spontaneous burst into tears. Sobbing in a way that he hadn't since he had injured himself as a child and his father had simply told him to 'grow up and get over it.'

All the tears he hadn't shed over the past few weeks came pouring out in one massive rush and Draco was filled to the brim with an unstoppable rage. Lashing out and slamming his fist against the solid brick wall beside him. This was bad judgment and a stupid action. Draco realised that a moment too late when something cracked and pain washed though him.

A really bad decision, and one that he chose to live with himself opting not to let Madame Pomfery know and in doing so avoiding a million and a bit unwanted question. Questions he doubted having answers to.


End file.
